All I Want For Christmas Is You
by lizandletdie
Summary: Belle French is doing a favor for her friend Neal. His dad hates all his girlfriends, so she's pretending to be the worst girlfriend ever over Christmas. Nobody planned on his dad having an intense attraction to "Lacey," though, or Neal's ex girlfriend Emma turning up back in town. Is anything going to go right this week?
1. Chapter 1

"You ready?" Neal asked as he put the car into park in the driveway.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Belle replied, pulling her skirt down on instinct, even though she'd expressly chosen it for being the shortest one she owned. "Remember to use the right name this week, okay?"

"Right, Lacey. I won't forget."

"You owe me so much for this, Cassidy."

"Yeah I know. Let's just get to June and I promise you that your dad will never ask when you're getting married ever again."

It was a deal, beautiful in its simplicity and absolutely foolproof as long as they could keep their stories straight. They both had problems with their parents interfering in their love lives – Neal's dad hated every single girl he'd ever brought home and Belle's father had been nagging her about when she was going to get married since she was a junior in high school (the man was absolutely grandchild crazy) – and they had hatched a plan to both get their revenge and hopefully make future visits more enjoyable. Belle would attend Christmas as Neal's new girlfriend 'Lacey' who would be every stereotype of Australian bogans that she could possibly pull off, and he would attend her cousin Gail's wedding as her boorish, unemployed boyfriend and openly hit on the bride – if he could _actually_ have sex with one of her other cousins or a bridesmaid, so much the better.

The only problem now was that Belle was going to have to spend a week at her friend's father's house acting as blithely inappropriate as she could manage with absolutely no evident shame in her misbehavior. Hopefully, next time Neal brought a girl home his father would be so pleased she was better than 'Lacey' that he'd overlook whatever other defects she had. That was the plan, anyway, but an abstract plan was so much easier than the reality of getting out of a car in snowy, suburban Maine wearing a skirt that barely covered her ass, tights, and knee-high boots. She looked like a prostitute. Not even a _classy_ prostitute, she looked like Julia Roberts at the start of _Pretty Woman_. She just really hoped that they wouldn't be leaving the house a lot, because from the looks of the town as they'd driven through it she was pretty sure that she was going to be arrested if she walked through it looking like this.

"Stop fidgeting with your skirt," Neal said under his breath as he carried their bags to the house. "You look self-conscious."

"I _am_ self-conscious," she whispered back. "This skirt was a lot longer in high school!"

"Just remember it's not you," he replied. "It's Lacey. Whatever happens this week, it's just _Lacey_ , it's not you."

She nodded and tried to channel his advice on the quick walk to the front porch. Lacey wasn't Belle, so none of it really mattered. Lacey was sexy and comfortable with it, she could be loud and brash and demanding, she didn't care if Mr. Gold – or anybody else – liked her. She could totally do this. It was going to be a lot easier once she had a glass of wine in her hand, though.

Once they were up the stairs onto the porch (which had been a real dicey prospect for her in places what with the heeled boots), Neal stopped for a moment with his hand on the knob.

"You really ready?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I think I got this."

"Alright then," he said. "Let's go get you drunk and belligerent."

Theodosius Gold was already making his way to the front hall when he heard the door open and the sound of a woman's laughter in the hall. Neal was there with the girlfriend, and Theo got his first good look at Lacey. She didn't look like Neal's usual type, strangely. Ever since he'd been in school, Neal had always liked more statuesque women who wore a lot more clothes than the tiny girl currently in the foyer. She was pretty, but even as Neal was helping her take her coat off and then suddenly Theo wasn't sure where to look anymore. Her skirt was too tight and too short, and once her coat was off he saw the top wasn't much better. It was low cut in the front with some lace overtop forming sleeves. There was _very_ little left to the imagination.

"Hey pops," Neal said, lunging forward to hug his father. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Theo replied. "I hope your trip wasn't too taxing?"

"No, it was fine," Neal said, backing off and putting his hand on the woman's back. "Pops, this is Lacey. Lacey, this is Theo Gold, my father."

"Hey, how ya going?" she replied, shaking his hand firmly.

"Right, well… it's nice to meet you, Lacey," he replied, trying to put together his thoughts on this particular girl. She was… definitely different. "Neal, I've got you in your old room and Lacey in the guest room."

Theo generally put his son separate from girlfriends, mostly because he didn't want to encourage them to have sex. They were free to do whatever they liked when they weren't at his place, but it was an old, creaky house and he could hear anything they got up to. There hadn't ever been any issues with it before, but none of the previous girls were so _sexual_ in their bearing. Everything about this girl was extremely provocative, from her bright red lipstick to her high heeled boots.

"Sounds good," Neal replied. "Come on, Lacey, I'll show you where your room is."

"Fab," Lacey said, bending to pick her bag up where Neal had left it on the floor. Theo instantly averted his eyes, but it hadn't been soon enough to miss finding out that Neal's new girlfriend apparently favored thongs – or possibly nothing, there had been tights in the way and he hadn't wanted to see more than he already had.

Neal was apparently unaware or unconcerned with the eyeful his father had just gotten, and Theo made sure to look anywhere else as she went up the stairs. This was going to be a real long week unless Lacey had a surprising amount of sweaters in her suitcase, because Theo wasn't sure that Neal had ever brought home a prettier girl and he was _definitely_ sure he'd never brought home a girl in fewer clothes. He was going to have to take a lot of cold showers this week.

Theo was still waiting for dinner to arrive when Neal and Lacey came back downstairs, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disturbed that she definitely hadn't put on any extra clothes since vanishing upstairs with his son. At least no more had come off, at any rate.

"Was everything alright?" Theo asked.

"You've got a real nice place here, Mr. Gold," Lacey said as she dropped onto the couch. "Real fucking classy."

She didn't seem to be sarcastic, but other than that he wasn't quite sure how to take it. Neal seemed completely unsurprised by this outburst and vanished into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. It was extraordinarily hard to keep his eyes off her legs once they were alone. She'd crossed them, and her skirt had ridden up her thigh a bit more. A short girl shouldn't have such long legs. He had a vague mental image of running his fingers up her thighs under that insanely short skirt. That was, sincerely, a bad thing to think about but he couldn't stop looking at her thighs. Thankfully, Neal came back pretty quickly with a couple glasses of wine, one of which he handed to Lacey before joining her on the sofa.

There was an awkward silence while the two of them drank, and Theo was a little jealous – that was a surprisingly good idea. What kind of lunatic couldn't stop looking at his son's girlfriend's legs?

"So, Lacey," Theo said. "How did you and Neal meet?"

That should be a nice, safe topic of conversation. They'd probably met at work or school or…

"Right, so I was at this nightclub with my mates watching this metal show and doing shots when this fucking cunt decided to start some shit with me. The bouncer came over and he turfed me and the slag who had started the whole thing. I was gonna head home, but I tripped ass over teakettle into Neal so long story short I ended up going back to his place instead."

Neal made a sound like he was choking on his wine and Theo just kept staring at Lacey trying to figure out if she was making fun of him or not. Luckily, the doorbell rang before anyone could be any weirder.

"I'll get it," Neal said, setting his glass on the coffee table and dashing off to the front door and leaving Lacey and Theo alone.

"Is all this stuff real?" Lacey asked, reaching over and picking up a statuette off the table and flipping it over. "Jesus, you must be fucking loaded."

What the hell had his son been _thinking_ bringing her home? He was going to have to count the silverware after she left. Although, if he was being honest, the resemblance between Lacey and Neal's mother was absolutely uncanny in a lot of ways. Maybe the kid _had_ needed to go to therapy after the divorce.

This was all going a lot better than Neal had anticipated. His dad was visibly uncomfortable, and Belle was doing a really good job at being completely off-putting. With any luck, his father would be begging him to go back to to any of the other girls he'd brought home in previous years.

He was in a pretty good mood when he swung the door open, until he saw Emma Swan and his heart stopped. They'd dated on and off before he left for school at eighteen, and hadn't kept contact afterward. Last he'd heard, she was in Boston. Why was she back here?

"Hey," he said. "I didn't know you were back in town?"

He was pretty sure he sounded like an idiot, but he honestly hadn't expected to see his old friend-slash-girlfriend.

"Just for a little while," she replied. "I'm kind of between jobs and boyfriends. It just seemed like a good time to go home for a few weeks and get my shit together."

That was an urge Neal understood more than most people. If he and his father had gotten along better, there were weeks where he would have packed it all up and come back home. He'd stuck it out, though.

"Can't say I blame you for that," he replied. "How are your parents doing?"

"They're fine," she said. "But uh, are you going to _pay_ me, or are we going to hang out and catch up in the doorway the rest of the evening? Because if that's the case, I should really call Ruby and tell her she needs to round up another helper."

He glanced down and registered for the first time that she was holding a small box full of takeout bags from _Granny's_ diner. Well, that was embarrassing.

"Yeah, of course," he said quickly, backing up and grabbing the jar his dad had always kept tip money for delivery people in. He fished out a wad of cash and thrust it at Emma before grabbing the box. She laughed politely and took the money.

"Keep the change," he said before she could start counting any back for him. This was officially the awkwardest part of a day that had included his best friend saying the word _cunt_ in front of his father.

"Thanks," she said, tucking the cash into the pocket of her red leather jacket. "Merry Christmas, Neal!"

"Merry Christmas!" he said, shutting the door and banging his head against it once in frustration at his own idiocy.

It was time to eat, and maybe if he played his cards right Belle would spill a whole glass of something onto his father's lap. That'd definitely cheer him up and he pictured it in his head to put a smile on his face before he had to go back to his family.

"Hey guys," Neal called out, heading to the dining room. "Dinner is here!"

Really, in the long run, what difference did it make if his ex-girlfriend was back in town at the same time he was? He hadn't seen her in close to ten years now, that was almost an entire lifetime, really.

Dinner had been long, and Belle was really, really tired. It took a lot of energy to maintain a fake persona for an extended period of time. She really wished she'd paid more attention in her improv class in college (or, briefly, that she could call that professor up and demand her C in class get changed). She couldn't answer any questions without trying to think about how her cousin Mels would have answered it and it was starting to give her a headache.

At least Neal's dad had stayed downstairs, so it was actually Neal giving her the tour of the upstairs and she could let the mask slip.

"You're gonna be here," he said as he opened a door and flipped a light on. Her suitcase was already sitting on the bed, which looked seriously tempting her. No matter what Neal may or may not like about his dad, the man had fabulous taste in everything and this room was very nicely decorated. There was even an old fashioned vanity and she was pretty sure she could cry just looking at it.

"This is a really nice room," she said, stroking the textured wallpaper. "Do you think he'd let me stay after you leave? I'm very neat."

"Nah, I think you may have blown your chance at being a sugar baby when you asked him what part of England he's from."

She tried not to giggle, but ended up snorting instead at the memory. He hadn't even responded, just excused himself to the restroom which had actually been good, because Neal was having trouble keeping a straight face which had set Belle off giggling as well. They'd just barely gotten themselves under control when he returned, and she'd proceeded to drink and ask invasive questions about how much everything cost whilst making sexual innuendos about his son. They were off to a great start, at least. If she was lucky, she'd get kicked out within three days and she could be normal at home for Christmas.

"Across the hall is a linen closet," Neal continued. "Next to that is the guest bathroom, my room is across the hall from the bathroom and my dad's is at the end of the hall across from the library. So if you need anything _don't_ knock on that door."

She nodded and went back to caressing the furniture. It was all solid wood and so old and beautiful.

"Wait, there's a library?" she asked as soon as his words hit her. "Where's the library?"

"It's the open door next to my room," Neal said. "You can't miss it."

She hurried down the hall, hoping the library would be as cool as the rest of the house was. She was not disappointed in the least. Two full walls were lined with bookshelves, while the center was taken up with two antique sofas. There was even a fireplace between two big windows. It was the library of her dreams and Belle just wanted to cry.

She felt weirdly self-conscious as she walked into the library, but once she saw the contents of the first set of shelves it all faded. These were all early editions! How on Earth had he been able to afford these? They were so beautiful, she couldn't help but reach out and touch one. It was so old and the leather binding was buttery soft. Maybe she could move into his air conditioner vents like that lady in Japan. Or was it Germany? Whatever, she never wanted to leave this library as long as she lived.

She heard someone at the door and spun around to see Neal's dad there. Fuck.

"Can I help you?" he asked her and she could actually feel her face flushing at the question.

"I was looking for the loo," she blurted out.

"It's across the hall and to the right."

"Thanks."

He backed away and gestured towards the door, and she could feel his eyes on her back as she opened the door to the bathroom and went inside. This was going to be a long week.


	2. Chapter 2

It was just past ten when Belle knocked on Neal's door. She'd (mostly) changed out of her daytime clothes, her makeup was off and she'd swapped her dress for a pair of yoga pants before she realized a bottle of lotion had exploded on the t-shirt she'd packed for sleeping in. She was currently wearing a bra and a towel on her upper half, and thankfully Neal opened the door before too long.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I need to borrow a t-shirt," she said. "I don't have anything to wear to bed."

"Oh that's a good idea anyway," he replied. "I wish I'd thought of it."

He started fishing through his suitcase, holding each shirt up to look at the front before discarding it. At last, he found one from college and she understood – he'd been looking for one that looked the most like it was his. Whatever, she was just happy to get the shirt on and she wiggled out of the towel as soon as it was on.

"Thanks man," she said once she was clothed. "I had a lotion explosion in my suitcase."

"Don't mention it. Hey, while you're here, can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"I'm gonna shake the bed against the wall, do you mind making sex noises?"

"You're a terrible person," she said.

"Yeah, I know. You down?"

"Only if you let me sit on the bed while you shake it. It will add to the realism and also be fun."

"Be my guest," he said, taking up position at the footboard as she jumped into the center of the bed. This should be weird, but there had never been anything sexual between her and Neal and even if there had been it wasn't going to start in a room that was plastered in vintage Star Wars posters.

"You ready?" he asked once she was settled, and he waited for her nod before he leaned against the bedframe and shoved it hard into the wall.

Belle shrieked and stifled a giggle as he shook the bed again. It was fun in a strange way, and it took her until he reminded her to start moaning loudly. It was awkward and weird and hilarious, and they were both laughing hysterically when she gave one final shriek as he banged the bed against the wall one final time. It was absolutely ridiculous.

"Nice performance," he said, trying to catch his breath while she tried to stop laughing. "If I hadn't known any better I would have thought I was rocking your world."

"Eh, I've had better," she replied, hopping off his bed. "But thanks for the shirt."

"No problem, you going to sleep?"

"I'm gonna call my dad first. It's like, four there and he was a little disappointed I couldn't go home with him for Christmas."

"Fair enough, tell Moe I said hi."

"Yeah I'll get right on that," she said as she let herself into the hallway. "Sleep well."

"You too."

Theo was going to have to cut his ears off. No, wait, if he did that then the last thing he would ever hear would be _that_ little production and that was absolutely unacceptable. It _might_ still be a recent enough memory that he could drink it away, so that was an option. If nothing else, he really needed a drink if he was going to get any sleep. He climbed out of bed and put on his robe before letting himself into the hallway. He'd meant to go down stairs to get a glass of whatever had the highest proof in his liquor cabinet, but then he realized there was a light left on in the library.

The door was mostly closed, so he couldn't see Lacey as he approached the room, but he heard her voice before his hand touched the doorknob. It took him a little while to recognize it as being the same woman, though. She was speaking softer, and her accent wasn't as pronounced. She also wasn't swearing. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop – she was probably just talking to Neal and he _definitely_ didn't want to listen to that conversation – but then he caught the word _papa_ and he couldn't stop listening.

"I miss you too," she said. "How's everyone doing? Did Nan make her fruit cake?"

There was a pause and he realized she must be on the phone. With her father, apparently. He wondered why she wasn't wherever he was for the holiday. Presumably Neal could have joined her.

"Well, tell them I'll be there for Gail's wedding," she said. "I wouldn't miss it. No, I'm serious! I'm looking forward to it."

She giggled at something, and it was strangely musical, like a bell chime. He wouldn't have thought Lacey could sound so...nice.

"Okay, I'll let you go. Yeah, it's going to cost a million dollars for long distance fees. I'll talk to you on Christmas, though! I promise. Tell everyone I love them."

She made a few other little pleasantries, and he somehow lost track of the fact that she was hanging up the phone. As soon as he heard her footsteps he dashed back across the hall to his bedroom, but he wasn't quite fast enough and she was opening the door to the library as he was closing the bedroom.

Their eyes met and they both froze. She was surprisingly beautiful with all the makeup washed off, and she looked so much more graceful somehow in her pajamas and Neal's shirt. The shirt was what snapped him out of his weirdness. This was Neal's girlfriend, and this whole line of thought was completely inappropriate.

"Mr. Gold," she said in the same soft accent she'd had before, and he saw a change come over her face almost immediately after. "Did we wake you?" she asked him with the other accent she'd had all day.

"Not at all," he replied, unsure what was going on. "I was just checking the lock on the front door."

"Good," she said. "I can be pretty loud."

"I'm sure," he said. "Goodnight, Lacey."

He shut the door and took a deep breath before returning to bed. There was something odd going on with Lacey, and he was going to find out what it was.

Belle had always been an early riser, and Neal was not, and she wasn't going to wait around for him to wake up before she got started on breakfast. There was definitely a possibility of seeing his dad, so she'd dressed appropriately. Or inappropriately, depending on your point of view. She felt really self-conscious walking into the kitchen wearing Neal's t-shirt, a pair of panties, and a bathrobe, but she'd never see this guy again after this week and the shirt was long enough to cover her to just above mid-thigh. It would be okay.

Sure enough, Neal's dad was already sitting at the table with a mug in front of him and a newspaper. She wanted to watch for his reaction, but Lacey wouldn't do that. She held her head up and walked straight to the refrigerator. She didn't dare look back, but a part of her kind of hoped he was watching her. This was getting to be a lot of fun, actually. Nobody in her real life thought she was this daring, but she was bent over looking in a strange man's refrigerator wearing very few clothes. It was actually kind of empowering in a weird way, it was just so _different_ from her real life.

"There's coffee in the pot," she heard him say and she turned to look at him for the first time. He was still looking at his paper, and she was actually a little disappointed he hadn't noticed her relative state of undress but it was hard to be too disappointed when there was coffee.

"Thanks, mate," she said, because why half-ass the stereotype? "Mugs?"

"Next to the sink," he replied, still not looking at her. "Cream and sugar on the table."

She retrieved a mug from the cabinet and poured herself some coffee before joining him at the table. He had a sugar bowl and a ceramic pitcher of cream. She loved this place, it was so cool being here. They sat in silence for a little while while she got her coffee ready, although the moment she tasted it she lost the ability to be quiet.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "That's so good!"

"It's Kona," he replied, looking at her at last.

"It's amazing. Where did you get it?"

"There's a store that imports it nearby. It's also where I get my tea."

She was in love with his pantry. There were no two ways around it. Now that she was at the table, there was jam with a homemade label on it she could see. He bought homemade jam. Be still her beating heart, there were English muffins, too. It wasn't quite scones and tea, but the jam was just as good as she'd expected it to be.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked long after she'd forgotten he was even there. Shit, she was supposed to be Lacey still.

"Didn't get a whole lot of sleeping done," she said with a wink. "Hope we didn't keep you up."

He looked up at her again and then his eyes darted back down to the paper. She could see his hands clenching and unclenching at the sides of it. Okay, so it was probably time to back off of that one. The goal was for him to tell Neal to dump her, not for the cops to get called on a domestic dispute.

"This is really good," she said, taking another bite of her muffin. "Like, _really_ good. What kind of jam is this?"

"Oh, it's blackcurrant."

"Did you order this?"

"It's imported," he replied.

"We never had stuff like this when I was growing up," she said idly. "You know, if you'd told me even, like, two years ago I'd be staying in a classy place like this I'd have laughed at you."

It was true, but she thought it'd add to the Lacey character to emphasize certain parts of her upbringing more than others. He looked at her again, but this time he just _looked_ and it weirdly felt like he was seeing her.

"To be honest, I'd have been surprised to be here when I was your age, too."

"Yeah?" she asked. "You mean you didn't inherit all this shit?"

He started chuckling, and she couldn't figure out what was so funny so she shoved another piece of muffin in her mouth to distract herself from the unsettled feeling it gave her to be laughed at when she hadn't been trying to be funny.

"I take it Neal never told you about his grandfather," he said at last. "Although he would have really liked you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied and he smiled at her again. He had a really nice smile when he wasn't looking down on her. What must it be like to have him actually _like_ you?

"Do you mind giving me a hickey?" Neal asked. He'd waited until Belle came upstairs from breakfast before asking her. He wanted to get it done before he saw his dad again. It seemed like a nice touch and would hopefully really sell the fake sex from the night before.

She just stopped and stared at him, forcing him to continue.

"Come on," he said. "It's just one little hickey."

"I'm not giving you a hickey."

"It's a platonic hickey!"

"It's weird."

"What's weird about sucking on a friend's neck?"

"Give yourself your own damn hickey."

"I would if I could!"

"Wave a match under a cup and then put the cup on your neck."

"Nice, but your mouth isn't as big as a drinking glass."

"What about a shot glass?"

"I doubt he has any."

"Juice glass?"

"That might work," he said, trying to think if the juice glasses in his father's cabinets would reasonably pass for her lips.

"Or just put the vacuum on your neck."

"Does that work?"

"It worked when I was in high school," she replied. "Can I get dressed now?"

He looked down for the first time and realized she was still in a bathrobe. She also hadn't brushed her hair yet, now that he looked.

"Oh, crap, sorry. You do whatever and I'm going to go see if he still keeps the vacuum in the same closet."

"You have fun with that," she said, patting him on the arm before she vanished into the guest room.

The vacuum was just where he remembered it being, and he snuck it into his room and plugged it in. It had been a long time since he'd been proud of a hickey, but the carpet attachment did a pretty decent job if you didn't look at it too long, and hopefully his dad wouldn't pay too much attention to it.

His father was already long gone by the time Neal made his way downstairs for breakfast, but he'd expected that. His dad was always out of the house before ten so he could open the shop. Maybe he and Belle should go into town later. They could go see the pawn shop and 'Lacey' could meet all of his father's tenants and business associates.

It was going to be a _great_ Christmas. Who knows? Maybe next year Neal could bring a real date home without fear of his father's disapproval. That would be a really nice change of pace.

Theo had thought he'd be free of Neal and Lacey if he spent the day at work. He could count on one hand the number of times Neal had been to see him at work, and he most certainly had not thought Neal would want Lacey out in public where she could meet his kindergarten teacher or one of the local nuns. Actually, Lacey meeting one of the nuns might be worth seeing. But even so, it was a bit of an unpleasant shock to actually see the two of them walking into the pawn shop that afternoon.

Comparatively speaking, she had put on a lot more clothes. This time was a miniskirt and a sweater that showed her belly button under the coat. The thick eyeliner was back, though. It was starting to feel like she wore the makeup as a mask, because at breakfast she'd been different. Even the night before when he'd overheard her phone call she'd been softer than she had been before. Now, though, she was right back to a coy grin on her bright red lips.

"Hey Pops," Neal said. "Is that toy store still open at the corner of Main Street?"

"Why do you need to go to a toy store?"

"Lacey and I are Christmas shopping."

"At a toy store?"

Neal didn't seem to have an answer and just started looking around like he could find an answer if he looked hard enough. Lacey bit her lip and looked away, and Theo could see the corners of her mouth curling up in a smile. She was really surprisingly pretty.

"Didn't you want to go to the tattoo parlor next to it?" she said at last, before glancing back at Theo. "We were getting matching tattoos."

"Yes," Neal said. "That's what we were doing."

"Well, that sounds exciting," Theo replied, folding his hands on the counter in front of himself. Neal was up to something, and he wasn't doing a good job at covering it up. "What are you getting tattooed?"

"My shoulder blade, and his bicep," Lacey replied. "I already have one in a _special_ place, you know?"

"Oh I can imagine," he said, wondering if it really existed and where. That _really_ shouldn't be as interesting a mental image as it was. "But I'm afraid the tattoo parlor is going to be on the other side of town."

"Thanks dad!" Neal said, craning his neck awkwardly as he looked around. "What time are you going to be home tonight?"

"By seven," he replied. "You two have fun today."

Neal seemed a little disappointed, but he didn't stop smiling.

"Sounds great, I'll see you then!"

Neal took Lacey's hand and they made their way back into the street.

"Bye, Mr. Gold!" Lacey called out as the door shut. Something _really_ weird was going on, and he was going to figure out what it was.


	3. Chapter 3

"He didn't see my hickey!" Neal exclaimed as they walked down the street. "How could he miss it? It's huge!"

"You didn't take your scarf off, idiot," Belle shot back. "And it looks ridiculous anyway."

"Well, _somebody_ wouldn't suck on my neck like a good friend."

"And I stand by that decision," she said, looking over at him and smiling. "It was a terrible idea."

She was probably right, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, they were well on their way to his dad begging him to dump 'Lacey' and then he would be free to date whoever he wanted. It was a foolproof plan.

"So what do you want to do?" she asked him, looking around. "Your dad said there was a store that sold coffee and tea nearby."

"Oh damn," he said. "I forgot you have that thing about tea."

"Shut up," she replied. "I do not have a _thing_ about tea!"

"Yes you do! Remember that barista you dated for six months because he was the only one that could get the ratio of tea to milk right?"

"Hey, Tim was a really nice guy!"

"Tim was thirty-nine, lived with his mother, and introduced himself to everybody he met as a 'future rock star.'"

"That is...entirely fair," she replied. "But he did make damn good tea. And coffee, oh my god."

"You're going to marry my dad, aren't you?"

"What? No!"

"Yeah, he made you expensive coffee and I know for a fact he owns a full tea service."

"I barely know your dad! But that was _really_ good coffee. Does he have a French press, do you think?"

"Oh man, you're going to marry him for the tea and coffee. Like some kind of Dutch-Indian Company groupie."

"Yeah, well when I marry your dad you can call me _mom_ and your curfew will be 10:30 when you visit," she shot back smugly. "How about that?"

He had a reply on the tip of his tongue, but he heard someone say his name and when he looked up Emma was standing on the sidewalk in front of him.

"Hey, Emma!" he said, catching up to her. "How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Just out shopping. You?"

She was wide-eyed staring back and forth between him and Belle. Oh, crap. Belle.

"Sorry, Emma this is B-Lacey. My friend – girlfriend. My girlfriend. This is my girlfriend, Lacey," he said, grabbing Belle's arm and pulling her forward a little bit. Wow, he was smooth. "Lacey this is...this is Emma."

"Nice to meet you," Belle said, foregoing the fake Lacey accent she'd been using all week.

"Yeah, you too," Emma replied as she took Belle's hand. "So how long have you two been dating?"

"Just a couple months," Belle said.

"And he wanted you to meet his dad?" Emma said, looking over at Neal a little incredulously. "That sounds...realistic."

"Well, you know how he is," Neal said. "He just loves meeting my girlfriends."

"Yeah, that definitely sounds like Mr. Gold," Emma said. "Just loves meeting new people."

They were all standing there looking around awkwardly, and Neal wasn't at all sure why this was so weird.

"We'll let you get back to your shopping," Belle said quickly. "We were just about to do some Christmas shopping ourselves, actually."

"Okay," Emma said. "It was great meeting you Lacey."

"Nice to meet you, too," Belle said and then Emma was gone before Neal could really mutter his own goodbye. He had no idea why this was so weird, but once his dad demanded he break up with Lacey he could totally figure that all out.

It turned out that tattoo parlors on the 'shady' side of quaint New England towns did not offer temporary options for grown men trying to manipulate their fathers. And somehow, Neal had been _surprised_ by that fact. Personally, Belle was more surprised that he was surprised than she was about his backup option which had involved going to the toy store and picking up a pack of temporary tattoos. The tattoo guy had suggested a permanent marker with baby powder on top of it, but Belle wasn't known for her artistic skills so somehow they'd lit on the idea of buying a package of the cheap temporary ones, which meant going to a toy store a matter of days before Christmas.

"You do realize this is insane, right?" she asked him. "There is no way your dad is going to fall for it."

"Eh, just put it on me later. I'll get some gauze to put on top and he'll never ask to see yours."

She was pretty sure Neal either thought he was more clever than he was or that his dad was stupider, but either way she was very sure they were going to get caught out on this one. Especially since she'd just barely had time to put _Lacey_ on his arm in the fake letters in the bathroom at the diner they were supposed to meet his dad at moments before they were supposed to meet him.

Luckily, they were able to get settled just in time for Mr. Gold to arrive, and from there on out all she had to do was be bad at conversation and drink a lot of wine. And she could do both those things! Neal was getting antsy, though. Belle didn't like when Neal got antsy this week, because it seemed to portend bad things.

"How did the tattoos go?" Mr. Gold asked, pointedly staring at Neal. "Not too painful I hope?"

"Nah," Neal said, putting his hand on Belle's leg. "It went great."

"Well, that's good!" Gold replied. "Because I remember how scared you used to be of needles, so I wasn't sure how you'd handle one repeatedly punching into your skin at high speed."

Neal was visibly paler than before, and Belle couldn't believe he'd overlooked that little factoid. Although at least it explained why he'd never gotten a flu shot since she'd known him.

"Nah, it's not that bad," she said quickly. "When I got the one on my bits I was shitfaced, but it still hurt worse than this one."

His father was looking at her now with fascination on his face and Neal seemed a little on edge.

"Hey, Dad, I'm glad you're here," he said. "Because I had something I wanted to say to Lacey and I thought it'd be better if we had family here."

Belle felt the color go out of her own face as she watched Neal slide out of the booth beside her and drop to one knee on the floor. This had not been a plan, and holy fucking shit what the hell was he _doing_?

"Lacey uh-Reb...Pa...Me... _Marie_. Lacey Marie French," he said and she really wished they'd figured out a middle name for her character before all this. "Would you do me the _extreme_ honor of being my wife?"

There was a really long silence and she knew she had to say _yes_ keep up appearances, but she'd always thought the first time someone would ask to marry her they'd actually mean it and now here she was with an entire diner staring at her and waiting for her to say yes.

"You know," Mr. Gold said before she could answer. "Neal, if you'd told me I could have gotten your mother's ring for you."

Neal's parents were divorced, and it hadn't been an amicable thing, so now Neal was glaring at his father and she was going to have to say _yes._

There was a noise from the door and Belle looked over quickly hoping it was a distraction and she saw the blonde that Neal had introduced her to earlier – Emma – standing there staring at them. And then there was a little boy with dark hair pushing past her to see why she'd stopped.

"Mom, what's going on?" the kid said and _that_ drew Neal's attention.

"Emma, hey," he said standing up quickly and staring openly at the boy. "Uh, who's this?"

Emma grabbed her son and fled the diner. Neal looked at his father quickly before running out after her, leaving Belle and his father alone at their table. The diner was still dead quiet and Belle just really wanted to fall through a hole in the ground at this point.

"So...Emma and Neal?" she asked his father quietly.

"Yeah," he said, sounding just as dazed as she felt.

"How long ago?"

"Long enough."

"Oh," she said, trying to wrap her head around this one. "Well. That's... _fuck_."

"Yeah," he said. "That about sums it up."

"Emma!" Neal called, jogging to catch up with her and the boy. "Hey, wait up!"

"Not now, Neal," Emma said as he caught up. "It is _not_ a good time, and you were in the middle of something, so…"

"Don't worry about that," he replied, keeping pace with her. "Let's talk about you. So what have you been up to the last decade or so?"

"Mom, what's happening?" the boy said. "Who is this?"

"He's nobody," Emma said before turning back to Neal. "It's fine."

"I'm Neal," Neal said, not daring to take his eyes off of the child who looked so uncannily like he had. "What's your name?"

"I'm Henry," he said. "How do you know my mom?"

"Your mom and I were friends in high school. So what grade are you in?"

"Don't answer him," Emma snapped, stopping so fast that Neal didn't notice immediately. "Henry, why don't you go across the street to the sheriff's station and say hi to your grandpa?"

Henry glanced at Neal quickly before looking back to his mother and shaking his head no.

"Henry, this is not negotiable."

"I wanna know what's going on," he said. "Who's this guy? What was happening in the diner?"

"Henry, just _go see your grandfather_ ," Emma said with a squeaky voice. "I promise we will discuss this tonight, okay?"

Henry sighed and nodded, casting one last look as he trotted off to the sheriff's station and vanished inside. As soon as he was gone Neal felt everything start to bubble over. He'd been trying to process everything and now his mind was running away from him and he didn't know what the hell he was going to even do.

"Is that my kid?" Neal blurted out at last. "Is that why you went to Boston after graduation?"

"It's not that simple, Neal."

"How is it not that simple? It is a yes or no question. Is that my son?"

She opened her mouth as though she was about to say something, and then closed it again and looked away and that was really all the answer he needed.

"Oh my God," he said as the reality of the situation came crashing down around him. He had a son. He had a ten year old son who he'd never met. "Oh my _God_ , Emma! How could you not tell me about this?"

"I don't know," she replied. "You were going to college and I had just turned eighteen and we lost touch."

"It's been _ten years!_ My dad still lives in the same town!"

"I _wanted_ to, but I wasn't sure what I was going to do at first," she said a little defensively. "And then after I decided to keep him it had been so long and you were gone and...it just snowballed, okay? I mean, what was I supposed to do? Show up on your dad's porch and go 'surprise, you're a grandpa?'"

"You should have told me," he said, feeling tired and betrayed and utterly in over his head. "I deserved to know. It's not like we ended on bad terms...I'd have been there for you. Both of you."

"Yeah, I know," she said. "But you don't have to worry about it, okay? We're doing really well."

"You don't get to decide if I'm going to worry about it!"

"I screwed up. I know. I'm sorry. I should have said something. But I mean, look at that girl you've been all over town with!"

"That? That's just my friend Belle. It was a prank on my dad that got way out of control."

"Okay, but you are a grown man who is trying to prank his father by, apparently, making out with a vacuum cleaner," she said, reaching out and pulling his scarf down. "Doesn't that seem a little immature to you?"

God, she had a point.

"That doesn't make what you did okay!" he replied. "I never had a chance to make those choices, Emma. You can't expect me to be prepared for something I never knew about!"

She was quiet, and he knew that he was right and that she knew it but he couldn't deal with this. He'd just gotten the biggest news of his life and there was no graceful way to handle it.

"This is _not_ over," he said before he turned and walked away.

"Where are you going?" she yelled after him.

"I can't have this conversation right now, I just need to figure this all out."

"Fine!" she shouted. "Just walk away!"

That was too far, and he stopped and turned back to face her.

"Don't you dare," he said. "You had ten years to get used to this, I think I deserve a couple hours."

She narrowed her eyes at him and stormed off to the sheriff's office, presumably to collect her – _their_ – son. This was all too much, and there was no way he could go back to his father's house where he'd be expected to explain what had happened, so he did the only thing he could do. The one dive bar in town was only a couple blocks away, and he had a mighty need to forget.


	4. Chapter 4

Lacey had ended up following Theo back to his shop, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He was only open until around seven, and then they could go home and face what had just happened. The fact that neither of them had been able to get an answer from Neal was, frankly, a little worrying. If the conversation with Emma had gone _well_ , Neal would have come right back and explained the mixup. So now Theo was preparing for the apparently _very_ real possibility that he had a grandchild he'd never known about. He'd met Henry before once or twice, but Emma had really only brought him to visit her parents over the holidays. It hadn't ever even occurred to him that he might be related to the boy.

Theo was a grandfather now, and he had no idea what to make of that fact. He'd never really spent any time with his grandson, he had no idea what he'd like, and it was almost Christmas. Then there was the fact that his son had brought home this other girl and for some reason Theo couldn't stop staring at her. He knew that there was _something_ peculiar going on with Neal and Lacey, but he still hadn't figured out precisely what it was. Maybe this would be a good chance to try to puzzle her out. If nothing else, it would be a good distraction from everything else that was happening.

She'd stopped to peek in the windows of the library on their way back to the store, but it hadn't been open in months, so he couldn't imagine there was much to see through the darkened windows. Still, it was one more piece to an increasingly perplexing puzzle.

"Do you think Neal's okay?" she asked once she'd rejoined him. "I'm kind of worried we haven't heard from him."

"I don't know," Theo replied. "But regardless of the outcome, I imagine those two have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah, generally it's a bad sign when a guy isn't sure if you've had his baby or not, isn't it?"

"Thankfully, I wouldn't know."

"Me either," she replied. "It just seems like a bad sign."

She'd sounded different since the aborted proposal, but he wasn't sure if she'd realized it or not. It was another peculiarity that he was completely stuck on. She must have been faking the accent, so what else had she been faking?

"I'm sorry your proposal was interrupted," he said, watching her carefully.

Lacey had been setting her shopping bags on the counter when he said it, and she froze with her back to him before relaxing her shoulders very deliberately.

"No worries, mate," she said, in an accent someplace between the two. "There'll be time. No drama."

He should call her out on this, but for some reason he was fascinated by this change. She was going seamlessly between a normal human being and a trashy, vulgar, trollop. And, to be wildly honest, he couldn't decide which version he preferred. Not for Neal, of course – Neal, thus far, had demonstrated better taste in women than his father had. Lacey was still off limits, of course. Good taste and common decency dictated he forget she existed, but she was fishing through her shopping bags now and apparently that had involved a trip to the one lingerie store in town.

He really shouldn't be watching as she pulled things out of bags and put them in other bags. It wasn't a good idea, but she was apparently the new owner of sexy elf lingerie. This was going to be a long week.

Belle was just about to get into the car with Neal's dad when her phone finally vibrated with a text message from Neal. It was the first contact they'd managed to have with him since he ran out of the diner, and she was so relieved she almost wasn't annoyed he'd waited so long before finally sending a message.

 _this guy says i need a ride_.

It was a distressingly simple text, and it demanded her attention.

 _What guy?_ she sent back. _Where are you?_

 _the bbar_ , he replied. _guy here sayys i cant drive._

So he was clearly not going to be much help.

"What bars are in town?" Belle asked Mr. Gold. "Neal's at one of them."

"There's really just _The Rabbit Hole_ ," he replied. "It's a couple blocks away. Do you need me to drive you?"

"No," she replied, calling up the address on her phone. "I'll walk there and take his car back, that way if he pukes in it it's his problem."

He nodded and she could feel him watching her for a few moments as she followed her GPS towards the bar. At least she'd put her shopping bags into his car, so she didn't have those to deal with at the moment. She was fairly certain from the state of those text messages she was going to have her hands full just trying to load him into his car. Thank God this was such a small town.

The Rabbit Hole was one of those bars peculiar to small towns where it wasn't quite a _dive_ , but there was an air of disreputability about the whole place. Neal was sitting at a table with his head drooping perilously. He noticed her as she approached and his face split into a slow smile.

"Hey, Belle!" he slurred. "Come an' drink with me. It's a boy!"

"So he was yours, huh?"

"She didn' even tell me," he said. "Like 'e's not my kid, too."

"That sucks. What are you gonna do?"

"I dunno yet," he said thoughtfully. "What would you do?"

"I think your first step needs to be going home and sleeping it off," she said, gesturing the bartender over.

Neal whined and moaned as Belle closed his tab out, but the bartender was polite and firm about telling Neal he needed to leave, and once they were out the door it didn't require a whole lot more cajoling to walk him down the street to his car. She ended up laying him down in the backseat and driving back to his father's while he dozed, and if she hadn't been afraid for him freezing to death she would have just left him back there when she got back to his dad's place. She somehow managed to maneuver him out of the car and into the house, and dumped him in his bed with a wastebasket next to it.

She didn't want to spend an evening alone with Mr. Gold, but it was way too early to go to sleep and she at least owed him to tell him how Neal was. The older man was far too intriguing to Belle, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stay Lacey.

He was sitting with a glass in his hand when she found him, and she felt exhausted all of a sudden at the prospect of nursing another one of them through the night.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked her.

She nodded and sat across from him on the sofa while he poured her a glass of whatever it was he'd been drinking. She settled in and sipped the amber liquid. It burned a bit, but it warmed her, too. He was looking at her in a way that made her stomach do flips, and she just wanted to sit here and drink until it felt like a good idea to hang out with him while drinking.

"Congratulations, by the way," she said after a few minutes. "You're a grandfather."

Theo felt old. In the blink of an eye he'd gone from father to grandfather and somehow sitting on the sofa with a girl his son's age and getting absolutely hammered was not helping him feel any younger.

Lacey was a few drinks behind him, but when she drank she became louder and more exuberant whereas he knew he had a tendency to get morose. If anything, it was probably a good thing that he was drinking with her and not alone tonight.

"How have you never played this game?" she said with a tipsy giggle. "It's a classic!"

"I actually _studied_ at university," he replied with a smile. "But I'm game to learn if you are to teach me."

"Lucky you, I am a very good teacher."

She was very clearly inebriated, and this was probably a bad idea for a myriad reasons, but she was so pretty and he just wanted to spend more time talking with her.

"It's really easy," she continued. "Every turn, you say two things that are true and one that's not and I have to guess which is the lie, and you do the same to me. Okay?"

"I think I can manage that. But you have to start."

She smiled brightly and he couldn't help but smile back at her. She hummed and tucked her legs up under her and if he'd been sober he probably would have averted his eyes but he was drunk and her legs were still fascinatingly long.

"Alright," she began. "My three stories are: I have a tattoo inside my panties, my parents split up when I was seventeen, and I once broke my arm falling off a ladder trying to reach the top shelf at the library."

He watched her face as she spoke, but she was so drunk already she couldn't stop smiling.

"The tattoo," he said at last. "I don't think you were telling the truth about that one."

"No," she replied, slapping his arm playfully. "I told you about it earlier, remember?"

Of course he did, but he hadn't really believed her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a little rose. I got it the first week of college. I was pledging a sorority and we went to this frat party and had _way_ too much to drink and somehow I ended up at a tattoo parlor with some of my friends and we all got something." She paused and bit her lip and he was having trouble focusing on her face. It felt like looking into the sun. "Wanna see?" she asked, and what could he do besides nod?

She was a little unsteady as she got to her feet, nearer now than she had been while she was on the sofa with him, and hooked her thumbs under the front of her skirt and pulled it down just enough for him to see the little pink flower sitting just to the side of the crease of her leg on her pubis mons. He couldn't stop looking at it, and she wasn't making any move to cover herself back up. It drew him in and he sat up and leaned forward until his entire field of view was her torso with the tiny, delicate little rose in her soft looking skin. He could lick it. He _wanted_ to lick it, and then kiss his way further down until he could bury his face between her legs and hear her cry out. But he was a grandfather and this was his son's... _something._ He still didn't believe half of what she said or did, but he had no idea who or what she actually _was_.

He heard her make a sound and he looked up to see she was watching him just as intently as he had been her, and it was the hardest thing he'd had to do to pull away without even touching the flower.

"It's very pretty," he said, and he could hear how strained his voice was. She pulled her skirt back up and knelt across from him on the sofa again.

"You have to drink now," she said. "You were wrong."

He nodded and took a sip of his drink, still not quite taking his eyes off of her face. She was so lovely, and it was so hard to not be closer.

"Is it my turn?" he asked and she nodded, swirling her glass a little bit.

He thought about it, trying to decide what he could use. There were so many things, and he was so drunk. It was so hard to choose.

"My parents both left when I was a child," he said. "I had to come to America because I had a criminal record in Scotland, and my shop is a front for the mafia."

Lacey was wide eyed as she looked at him and he just waited.

"I hope it's the mafia thing," she said at last. "At least, I _think_ I hope it's the mafia thing."

"It is," he replied, taking his punishment shot. "Good job."

"Those were so sad though," she said, reaching out and putting her hand on his comfortingly and suddenly he wanted to tell her a lot more stories to see what else she'd do if he made her sad enough.

"It was a long time ago – before you were even born."

"It's still sad," she said, scooting a little bit closer and it was hard not to notice her skirt riding higher up on her legs. If she pulled her legs up again, he was positive he'd be able to see her panties now.

"We all have sad stories," he said, trying to focus on her face and not the rest of her. "I'm sure you have your own."

"My parents didn't get divorced," she said. "But my mum died when I was seventeen. My dad's still around, though. He's in Sydney with his family right now."

Her hand had somehow migrated from his hand to his arm to his knee as she'd moved closer to him, and it felt _right_ even though he knew it was such a bad idea to let her be this close. The whole thing was morally so wrong, but somehow the taboo just added to the thrill of her fingers on the inside of his thigh.

"This game got depressing," she said at last. "Have you ever tried Truth or Dare?"

"You know I was in a sorority," Belle reminded him as she stripped off her sweater and tossed it onto the floor by the front door. "I don't know why you'd think I've never done this before."

"I'm perfectly willing to be proven wrong," Mr. Gold replied, standing in the foyer watching her kick off her shoes.

She was just tipsy enough that it seemed like a good idea to slow down as she shed her skirt and then to make a show of pulling off her tights, complete with bending over in her panties to pull them off her feet. She was now standing in her bra and panties in full view, and it should be a lot more embarrassing than it was, but she was moments away from jogging around his house like that so _embarrassment_ was a concept she'd let go of already tonight.

She opened the door and was instantly assaulted by the crisp December air. Somehow, she'd forgotten how cold snow could be.

"You're not going to back out, are you?" Mr. Gold asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Of course not," she shot back. "I never turn down a dare."

She took a deep breath and braced herself before leaping out into the snow in her bare feet. The cold was sobering as she dashed through the snow towards the back of the house, praying none of the neighbors looked out and saw her mad dash around the house. By the time she made it back to the front door she was just about frozen, but she was laughing too hard to care.

"Here," he said, holding a robe out to her and she took it gratefully. Her hands were shaking too much to bother with her clothes, and he guided her back into the warmth of the living room.

"That's so cold!" she said, trying not to shiver too hard. "I'm going to need a lot more whiskey."

"As you wish," he replied, getting another bottle from a cabinet against the wall and bringing it over before he joined her on the sofa. "There's plenty more where that came from."

"Such a thoughtful host. Can you pour?"

He nodded and filled both their glasses, splashing a little in his inebriation. She was having a really good time.

"It's your turn now!" she said. "Truth or dare?"

"I think after that I'm going to have to go with _truth_ ," he replied. "I don't think I want to go outside in my boxers."

"Too bad," she said, giving him what she hoped was a suggestive look. God, she was being forward as hell but it was thrilling and fun and she could always say it was the booze talking. Anyway, he didn't seem to mind. "Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked, nudging his leg with her frozen toes.

He did a doubletake and she couldn't help smiling. He was so cute when he was startled.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because that's the game," she said, letting her toes slide up his leg towards his hip. "Come on, Mr. Gold. It's a real easy question. Do you think I'm pretty or not?"

"Theo."

"What?"

"My name. Call me Theo, please."

"Whatever you want," she said. "But I am going to have to insist that you answer the question, Theo. Or else take your penalty drink."

He sighed and eyed his newly filled cup as if trying to decide if he wanted to drain it or not.

"Yeah," he said, leaning his head back on the sofa and closing his eyes. "I think you're pretty."

She rolled her legs under herself and leaned towards him on her hands and knees.

"Do you wanna kiss me?" she asked.

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes for a long moment.

"Is that a truth or a dare?"

"Your choice."

"It's not your turn."

"I don't know why you're making this so difficult," she said, scooting closer. "I'm not gonna say no if you ask. I think we're a little past that point."

"That...is very good to know."

She'd thought he'd kiss her now, and honestly she wanted him to. Something about him drew her in. Maybe it was that he seemed so in need of comfort or that she wasn't indulging any of her usual inhibitions, but she wanted her kiss more than she'd wanted any other kiss in her life and the longer he made her wait the more she wanted him. She was going to end up pulling her hair out if he didn't start soon.

"What about Neal?" he said at last and she suddenly remembered why she was being so free-spirited in the first place.

"That's nothing," she replied. "We're just friends. And I think we both know he's got more important things to worry about than fucking with you right now."

The corner of his mouth turned up and he looked a little bit dangerous and a lot more sexy, and her stomach did a little flip. Dammit.

"That's right," he said. "I'm apparently a grandfather now. And I'm old enough to be your father."

"But you're _not_ my father," she said, trying not to pout too much. She wasn't used to having to work this hard for a kiss. "Come on...just one little kiss. What can it hurt?"

"You're drunk."

"You're drunker."

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"I'm the drunk girl who's been trying really hard to get a kiss out of you."

"I mean _really_ – who are you _really_?"

She sat back on her feet and looked at him.

"Why do you need to know that?"

He shrugged and watched her openly again, and this time she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She was suddenly feeling a little distressed and she didn't know if she wanted the kiss anymore. What did he even mean by asking that?

"I don't want to talk anymore," she said at last, pulling back to her side of the sofa and wrapping the robe tighter around her body.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at her with confusion in his face that mirrored the confusion she felt. She wasn't even sure why this bothered her so much.

"I think I need a shower," she said at last, setting her drink down and standing up. "I'm still really cold."

He nodded, but took her hand in his before she could walk away. He wasn't even holding her tightly, but she still froze as he brought her palm to his lips and pressed a kiss to it before releasing her to dash upstairs to the relative safety of her room. It was the first time he'd ever touched her.


	5. Chapter 5

The hot shower did thaw Belle pretty significantly, and by the time she was out she felt a lot better. It had cleared her head and, while she wasn't precisely _sober_ she was feeling a lot more like a human being. She was so bummed at how the night had progressed. Maybe it was wrong to want to take her panties off and throw them at Neal's dad, but she was really enjoying flirting with him. She _never_ did this kind of thing in her regular life, but maybe she should do it more.

She still wasn't quite ready to sleep, so she snuck down to the library to find a book and clear her head. Theo's door was shut and his light was on, and she wanted to go see him (and maybe throw her panties at his face). Well, she _was_ in her pajamas now (sans Neal's shirt) and she had a bathrobe to return. Belle knocked on the door, and she heard his voice but couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but she figured he was probably telling her to come in so she turned the knob and pushed the door open before she realized he was definitely _not_ telling her to come in, he'd been telling her to wait just a minute because he was changing.

By the time she saw his ass, it was too late to shut the door without being noticed and anyway, _he was naked_. This was most certainly not a drill, she'd just walked in on this guy changing and now he was turning around and sweet crackers….she'd have to congratulate herself on that one later when he wasn't staring at her with his shirt in his hands and _abso-fucking-lutely nothing on and his dick in full view._

It took a lot more effort than it should have to get her eyes back on his face, but when she did his eyes were wide and his mouth was moving but no sound was coming out of him. She was pretty sure she'd seen some movies that started like this, but she was in no way drunk enough to enact any of the many pornographic ideas that were flying through her head. He suddenly seemed to register what the hell was going on and scrambled to cover himself with his shirt, which was far too thin for such a job to be honest.

"I...brought your robe back," she said at last, throwing it towards him and shutting the door behind her before he could yell or anything.

She stayed in the hallway for a second catching her breath and revelling in the thrill of her accidental voyeurism. Well, she could definitely do a _lot_ worse...

It was an absolutely ungodly hour when Neal woke up, but passing out drunk before nine will do that to you. He felt gross and sweaty and he was pretty sure he'd woken up to throw up at least once and was kind of feeling like doing it again. He had a splitting headache, and a son he'd never met, and he was pretty sure this was not going to be a good day.

He laid in bed until he couldn't take the smell of himself anymore. At least it was early enough that he didn't have to worry about encountering any of the other people in the house, and he only threw up once in the shower. The house was eerily still as he went downstairs in search of coffee and food, and it felt a lot like high school when his father would sometimes be away on business. It was a strange kind of lonely to be so alone in such a large place. Of course, he wasn't _actually_ alone – his father and Belle were both upstairs asleep, and as he made his way downstairs he almost tripped on something left on the floor. He bent to pick up the lump of fabric and it took him a little while to figure out it was a woman's sweater. Which was weird, because Belle was the only woman in the house and she didn't have any reason to take a sweater off in the living room. As he made his way down, though, he saw shoes and then tights and by the time he noticed her skirt next to the front door there was a picture of the evening forming in his hungover brain. There were two glasses and an empty bottle abandoned on the coffee table. He didn't know if he wanted to go upstairs and confront them about it or not. He had been joking when he'd accused Belle of trying to marry his dad, but suddenly he wasn't so sure anymore.

He was still mulling all this over his second cup of coffee when Belle finally joined him looking just a little bit better than he felt. Nobody spoke while she made her own mug of coffee and joined him at the table with her face in her hands, but eventually he couldn't wait any longer to get an answer out of her.

"Is there anything you wanted to tell me?" he asked and she looked up at him in confusion. "Your clothes are on the stairs."

"Oh! Oh shit. Yeah, sorry your dad and I hung out last night and we were playing truth or dare and drinking and I ended up running around the house in my underwear. He gave me a robe to put on after."

That...didn't really sound like his father, but it was a damn sight better than them fucking on the sofa, and he had a lot more to worry about anyway.

"You guys are getting close."

"I like him," she said with a shrug. "We have a good time together, and you've been preoccupied."

"Yeah,sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. I get why you've been distracted, but I don't really know anyone else to talk to, and...I don't want your father to dislike me anymore."

"It's probably for the best," he admitted. "I've gotta track down Emma today and figure out what I'm going to do about my son. Are you gonna tell him?"

"It's probably better if you do. But we're going to have to say something soon."

"I can do it tonight I guess. If I have to get into a fight with him this morning I'm probably going to die."

"Yeah, your dad can really hold his liquor, man."

Neal just nodded, but that just made him dizzy so he stopped and rested his face on the table. It was going to be a long damn week.

Theo never wanted to get out of bed again. He hadn't had that much to drink in decades, and he'd said some things he wished he could take back. Namely, he wished he could take back everything. Literally everything. All the personal information he'd given her, the various dares and truths he'd extracted, admitting she was pretty...the entire thing was like a nightmare. And then she'd walked in while he was naked, just to add insult to injury. He was a man who liked his secrets, and he was running low on secrets to keep from her. And there were still days until she left. At this rate, he'd be on his knees and at her mercy by New Years.

He wasn't sure what he saw in her, but then he also had no idea what (if anything) she saw in him. Lacey was a very forward woman, but she'd also been (by her own admission) lying from the beginning. At this point, Theo had no idea what was going on at all or even how to approach it. And now she'd seen him naked.

On top of all that, there was still the matter of Neal and Emma and their child. He felt foolish for having missed the obvious conclusion, but the two had dated so long ago and by the time he'd been aware Emma even _had_ a son it had been a few years and he simply hadn't thought enough about the boy to figure out that the ages lined up perfectly.

There was far too much to deal with over the next week, and not nearly enough time to lay in bed with a hangover. He showered and dressed, and once he had his tie on he felt a lot more ready to face the morning, even if it was a little on the late side.

Neal and Lacey were both seated at the kitchen table with coffee and no conversation. He had his face buried in his arms on the table and her elbows were on the table with her face in her hands. Neither one looked up to much conversation, and he very much understood. His head was killing him as he fished a bottle of aspirin out of a cabinet and took a few out for himself before setting the rest of them on the table between Lacey and Neal.

She looked up gratefully and he felt himself blushing in time to turn away. He heard the rattle of pills as he poured himself some coffee and made toast, and then a grunt from Neal.

"It's aspirin," Lacey said (presumably to Neal). "Don't be a grumpy bastard."

Theo couldn't help but smile to himself at that. He'd had a lot of very similar conversations with his son on school mornings when the boy didn't want to get out of bed and head for the bus. Neal never had been much good at waking up.

"So what are your plans for the day?" Lacey called out and this time he knew she was talking to him.

"I'll be spending the day in the shop again," he said, still not quite daring to look at her. "I'll be working most every day leading up to Christmas."

"Oh," she said softly, and he was sure that couldn't have been disappointment in her voice and yet he couldn't decide what else it could possibly be.

He needed to go into work – he needed something to take his mind off of all this and let him clear his head about literally all of this.

Neal was still trying to figure out what he was going to do when the doorbell rang. His dad had already left for work, and Belle was wandering around someplace, but Neal couldn't focus on anything. He had a son, and he had to figure out what he was going to tell Emma about it. Of course he wanted to be in Henry's life, but they didn't even live in the same state and he had no idea what he had to offer a child. He'd never, ever had anyone rely on him before.

There was a knock at the door, but he heard Belle call out that she'd get it and he was more than happy to let her. It was probably the postman or somebody soliciting donations for the local convent or something like that, especially this close to Christmas. He heard her calling for him and made his way downstairs. Probably the donations, then. She wouldn't know where his dad kept loose cash or that he'd rather have her cut his hand off than give money to the nuns. It wasn't until he got down there that he realized he'd been wrong on both counts, it was neither mail nor nun – it was his son.

"Are you my dad?" Henry said and all Neal could do was stare until Belle elbowed him in the ribs.

"Yeah. Yeah I am."

"That's what I thought. I heard my mom talking to my grandparents about you."

"Oh. Did you want to come in?"

Henry nodded and followed Neal into the house. This was nuts. He had no idea what to do with a kid, he hadn't been around them since he'd been one and this one was _his_. Good lord, who would trust him with a kid?

"Hey Henry," Belle said. "You wouldn't happen to know your mum's number, would you? We should probably let her know that you're safe."

"I won't have to go back right away, will I?"

Henry was looking between Belle and Neal, and it occurred to him suddenly that _he_ was the one who had to get that approval.

"I'll talk to her," he said. "It'll be okay."

Henry pulled out his phone and Neal watched as he pulled up his mom's number and called.

"Hi, Mom," Henry said, pausing as Emma replied. "I ran away. To see my dad. Because you lied! You said he was dead!" Well, that was news to Neal, who gestured for Henry to hand over the phone. "He wants to talk to you," Henry continued, handing the phone to Neal just in time for him to hear Emma yelling Henry's name repeatedly.

"Hey Emma," he said quickly. "So, Henry showed up at my dad's house."

"Oh my God," she said. "What is he doing there?!"

"Apparently he overheard you telling your parents about me?"

"Shit. What'd he hear?"

"I haven't _quite_ gotten that far, but I think he just wants to talk."

Neal looked over at Henry, who was still watching him.

"I'm sure he does," she said, taking a deep breath on her end. "Okay. Tell him he doesn't have to come home yet, but he has to call again before dinner and we'll figure this out then."

"I'll let him know."

"Oh, and Neal? I'm sorry about this. I was going to wait until you'd made a choice before I let him know but I've really screwed this all up."

"No, don't worry about it. I was going to tell you I wanted this exact thing to happen, actually."

"Alright, well...I'll come pick him up later. And I am sorry. About all of it."

"Yeah, it's…" he began, but he wasn't sure how to end it. It wasn't okay, it wasn't forgiven, and he'd missed ten years of his child's life. But it was over now, and he wanted to just focus on what he _could_ do which was get to know Henry right now. "Don't worry about it," he said. "We'll figure it out later."

"Okay. I'll see you guys later."

He hung the phone up and gave it back to Henry who tucked it into his pocket. Belle had vanished someplace, and he was alone with his son for the first time in his life. He was definitely in over his head.


	6. Chapter 6

Belle had left the house not long after Henry arrived. She didn't want to get between father and son bonding time, and truthfully she wanted to see a bit more of the town. She actually really liked it here. Things were cheaper than she was used to, and it kind of felt like walking through a Christmas card. She still felt a little self-conscious wandering around since everyone else seemed to know each other, but it was a holiday so there must be other strangers around someplace.

It seemed like she was drawn back to Theo's shop, though. She was _trying_ to give him some space at least until Neal had talked to him about everything, but she couldn't help it. She kind of liked him, and there was only so much she could do alone by herself in a strange town.

There was a little bell over his door that rang when she came in, and she smiled to herself at the sound of it. It felt like a good omen somehow, like in _It's a Wonderful Life._ Theo was at the counter when she came in, and she saw the moment that he recognized her a couple seconds later because his eyebrows jerked up into a look of shock before he schooled his features back to normal. She didn't think she looked _that_ different out of her Lacey-drag, but maybe she did. She'd left her hair down and was wearing jeans with her boots and a jacket over top. There was a sweater that flashed her belly button underneath the jacket, but compared to the things he'd seen her in before she looked practically respectable.

"Good morning," she said as cheerfully as she could as she pulled off her gloves and scarf and tucked them in her pocket. "Henry came over after you left, so I thought I'd leave the two of them alone."

"Probably for the best," he said. "Did Neal speak to Emma about any of this yet?"

"Yeah, he called to tell her where Henry was before I left but I don't know much more than that."

He nodded and went back to fiddling with the book he'd been working on when she came in, which she could now see was a ledger of some kind. She was kind of disappointed that he she wouldn't have his full attention today after she'd gone to all the trouble to track him down, but she couldn't exactly _complain_ about it when she had come to his place of business unannounced after they had pretty much come to an unspoken agreement not to acknowledge anything that had happened the night before.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" she asked at last to fill the silence. "I don't have anything else to do today and I was getting bored."

He looked around quickly and grabbed a feather duster before handing it to her, apparently feeling like that was the end of the conversation. At least now she knew where Neal got his occasional prickliness from. Still, she'd asked and dusting wasn't precisely a hardship. She left her coat on the counter next to him as she made her way around the room tending to his precious antiques. The silence started to get to her, though, and humming Christmas songs only went so far to fill her time.

"How long did Neal and Emma date?" she asked. She'd known Neal since college and they hadn't really talked much about their romantic histories because it hadn't ever come up and she found herself wondering how, precisely, one ended up with a secret love child you never knew about.

"On and off for most of high school," Theo said. "Although they did start to get pretty serious senior year and the following summer."

"And she really never said _anything_ about the kid? Did things end badly or something?"

She looked back over her shoulder, trying to decide if he minded her prying or not but he wasn't even looking at her.

"I don't know all the details myself," he said, still looking at his ledger. "But I understand there may have been some hurt feelings on both sides."

"I guess it's just one of those things with teen romances, isn't it? The inevitable fiery ending."

"I suppose. Still, it was disappointing when it happened.

"Yeah?"

He set his pen down and looked right at her, and the way his gaze seemed to see into her soul curled Belle's toes in her shoes.

"To be honest, I don't think he ever got over Emma. And I don't think any girl after that ever looked at him quite the same way she had. So...it was disappointing for everyone. I'd hoped he could have that sort of true love in his life."

"Did you ever have it?" she asked.

He didn't answer right away and looked up in the air as though trying to find an answer for her before he finally replied.

"No," he said at last. "Not with Neal's mother, not with anybody before or after her. But I would have liked that for him."

Belle nodded and went back to her dusting in silence. She'd never had that either, and hadn't really ever felt the loss of it before right now.

Lacey was a surprisingly industrious worker, and she was still dusting the knick-knacks when it was finally time to lock the door for the day and start closing up.

"Is it time to go already?" she asked when he locked the door and flipped the sign. "I guess I really zoned out."

"It won't be too much longer, Lacey," he said as he returned to the counter to pack up his ledgers. "If you'd like to have a seat in the back I'll give you a ride back."

She grimaced and walked up to the counter to where she'd left her coat. To his surprise, she pulled out her wallet, opened it, removed her driver's license, and put it down on the counter in front of him.

"My name is Belle," she said. "'Lacey' is just a name Neal came up with because he thought it sounded more like a girl you wouldn't like."

He picked up her license and read the information on it. Sure enough, her name was listed as _Sabella Bernice French_ , her address was in New York, she was going to be thirty in February, and her photo looked a lot more like the young woman standing in front of him than it did the siren he'd gotten drunk with the night before.

"So it is," he replied lamely. What else was he supposed to do with this new information?

"I was going to wait for Neal to tell you himself, but I don't think he's going to do it anytime soon," she wasn't even looking at him now, she was fiddling with her hands and staring at the countertop like there was a script in the wood. "My name is Belle, I met Neal when he was in undergrad and I was a TA in his English class, and this whole plan was really poorly conceived. We've never even so much as kissed."

"And what plan is this, exactly?"

"He wanted to bring home a girl so awful that you'd have to like his next one, and I was trying to get my dad off my back about getting married and providing him with grandchildren. Neal was going to take me to a family wedding in June and hit on all my cousins."

He handed back her ID, trying to figure out what to say to that. It certainly sounded like something Neal would do, but honestly how could he respond to that?

"Do me a favor and don't tell Neal my middle name," she said as she put her ID back in her wallet. "He'll never let me live it down."

"It's not like he has much room to talk," Theo said. "His middle name is Horace."

" _Horace_?" she said incredulously. "Why?"

"Don't ask me, his mother chose it. I was supposed to choose if we had a second one."

"Oh goodness," Belle said with a sweet little giggle. "Poor Neal."

She had her lower lip between her teeth and he had the sudden urge to reach out and touch her face and pull the lip free with his thumb. He could lean across this counter and press his mouth to hers, taste that lip for himself and see where things went. It was a beautiful distraction, but it couldn't last forever.

"I have to put these in the office," he said, picking up his pen and ledger and retreating to the backroom.

He shouldn't be so nervous about being around her. She seemed eager to get to know him, and the night before she'd asked for even more. He wasn't a teenager with his first look at a pretty girl, this shouldn't be so intimidating. And yet he was so nervous he dropped his damn pen in the doorway between the front and the back. Before he could even pick it up himself she'd scurried over and picked it up for him.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from her. He should move away, but she was smiling and he liked her smile.

"There's uh, mistletoe," she said softly and pointing upwards. Oh, damn. He'd forgotten about that. He'd bought a sprig of silk mistletoe and a half dozen rolls of wrapping paper for Neal to go on a science field trip in the twelfth grade, and he'd put it up in the doorway to the backroom of the shop every year since then. Nobody ever went back there besides him, nobody had ever been caught underneath it before.

She had backed against the door frame and was chewing on that lip again and there was nothing for it now. He was completely sunk and there was no way on earth to resist the pull as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. It was like an electric shock through him the second they touched, and some part of him had been afraid that he was misinterpreting her signals but then her arms were around his neck and she was holding him tight as she pressed her body against his. The ledger hit the floor and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

This was all wrong, but it felt so right he could hardly care.

Neal had dropped Henry off with his mother about an hour ago and gone shopping. It was almost Christmas, and he didn't have any gifts for his son. If nothing else, he at least wanted to try this much. He knew that he was going to have to get a lawyer and file for partial custody, and there were a lot of other decisions to make, too. He needed to decide where he was going to live if Henry was going to be here. His life was in the city, but Henry was going to be here. What was he doing that was so much more important than knowing his son?

That would, of course, mean a career change and a major life overhaul, but he didn't want to be an absentee father. Henry was a really great kid, and he wanted to be a part of that. He'd warned Emma already that he meant to do whatever he could to be involved and it hadn't turned into a fight, so that was a good sign, all things considered. He could tell that she knew that she'd fucked up, but it was still a hard thing to deal with. But it was Christmas time, and he didn't want to worry about that yet. He wanted to focus on the good things right now and so he was.

His dad's car was still outside the pawn shop when Neal passed it, which was a little bit strange since he'd thought he would have headed back home by now. Probably got sidetracked on inventory or something, and Neal decided to drop in and say hello. If nothing else, his dad probably needed a reminder that it was time to go home. The door was locked when Neal tried it, and he'd been about to knock when he'd realized it was dark in the front. He was probably in the back in that case, so Neal decided to spare his father the walk out front and circled around to the alley where the service entrance was. The door there was unlocked, and Neal let himself in.

"Hey pops," Neal said as he shut the door. It was darker inside than it had been out, with only one lamp providing light to the back.

As he turned back to face the room, he realized Belle was in there as well. She was standing about five feet away from a daybed that had been back there as long as Neal could remember and staring at him. Neal's father was sitting on the daybed in his shirt and pants, which was odd because Neal was sure he'd left the house in a full suit with a tie. On a second glance at Belle, her hair was messy and she was barefoot where she stood.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Neal exclaimed, covering his eyes before he could take in any more details of the scene. "I thought we were going to talk to him about that _later_!"

"I couldn't wait!" Belle replied, and he could hear them moving around now that his eyes were closed.

"I'm sorry, was there a time limit on trying to sleep with my dad? Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

"Shut up," she said. "You were busy! What was I supposed to do?"

"I cannot believe I am having this conversation," he said, trying not to image any part of what he'd interrupted. "At which point did making out with my dad turn into one of the top things you had to do in Storybrooke?"

"Can we _please_ have this conversation later?" his dad said before Belle could reply. "This isn't really the time or the place."

"There's not really a whole lot more to discuss," Neal said, uncovering his eyes and leaning his head back so he was staring at the ceiling. "I assume she told you about our arrangement, I just _really_ don't need to know about any of the rest of it. Ever."

"Hey, I wasn't planning about telling you about _this_ ," Belle said. "Trust me, you'd never have known."

Neal finally looked back down. His father had put himself back together and she'd smoothed down her hair.

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better about it," he said. "But I don't wanna know. I'm going home, and you two...don't tell me about it. We'll talk about my day...after."

He let himself back out and shut the door behind him. He was _definitely_ never walking through another door without knocking ever again.

Belle was really enjoying the remainder of her vacation. Neal was making headway with his child and ex, and that left Belle largely to herself as far as his father was concerned. Once Neal had given his implicit approval (well, he'd told them not to tell him and left it at that), Theo had gotten quite a bit friendlier with her. They'd been flirting almost non-stop, and there had been a few more makeouts. It was kind of like being in high school again, and she was having a good time with him.

Christmas eve was here, though, and she had all kinds of plans for how she planned to welcome Christmas once everyone was in bed. She'd actually bought the Christmas lingerie as a joke, but if she was able to get some use out of it then dammit, she was going to put on a green velvet fur lined bra and a pair of matching panties with mistletoe on them and sneak down the hall to his bedroom. She had a robe on, but it was still nerve wracking waiting for him to let her in.

"I've got a surprise for you," she said as soon as he opened the door, and she brushed past him before he could question her.

"Oh really?" he asked her with a smug little grin on his face. "And what would that be?"

She opened the robe and let it fall to the floor eagerly, savoring the way his eyes got wider at the sight of her. She'd missed having a guy be this happy to see her, it was so awesome to have someone be that into her.

"Do you like it?" she asked, trying to prompt a response when he didn't volunteer one immediately. She was pretty sure he did, but she was the one wearing a green velvet thong so she was going to get her compliments.

"Yes," he said in a strained voice. "Yes, I do like it. It's... _wow_."

"'Wow?'"

"Yeah...you're – your breasts and uh…"

"And?" she said, turning slowly so he could see the rest of it. He was staring slack jawed by the time she'd done a full turn, and she just wanted to kiss him.

"You look amazing," he finally said, and she jumped forward and threw her arms around her neck to kiss him. They worked their way back to his bed before collapsing into the sheets. She liked the way his fingers felt on her ass when she was on top of him. He was a lot of fun, and she liked him so much.

"What is this?" he asked once she finally came up for air.

"Well I didn't exactly have time to pick out a Christmas present," she replied, leaning down to kiss his lips again.

"You're a vision in tacky lingerie," he said when she'd broken away. "But I meant more like, am I going to see you again after this week?"

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. He was so damn cute and she liked him so much.

"Of course," she replied. "I think Neal's going to be up here a lot more often, so I can always hitch a ride up with him. You know, if you want me to."

He smiled and looked a little relieved and her heart did a little flip in her chest. He was so cute and so sweet, and she was going to have such a good time getting to know him better. But, for right now, she was having a really good time with him underneath her eyeing the mistletoe on her crotch.

"See something you like?" she asked, wiggling a little bit. "It's just a suggestion, but it _is_ good luck…"

He looked at her for a second, and suddenly he flipped her onto her back and kissed her neck. She stifled a giggle as he kissed his way down her body.

"This is the best Christmas _ever_ ," she said with a sigh. "I got everything I wanted."


End file.
